Believing is Seeing
by Nutmegs Bread
Summary: It's never too late to start believing. One-shot.


**Believing is Seeing**

The cold was harsh and bitter on his exposed skin. Harry held back a grimace and tried to hitch the jumper a little higher. It was a few sizes too big for him, and its neck persisted in sliding down despite his best efforts. He grasped the shovel a little tighter and attempted to work some senses back into his digits, stiff to the point of numbness in the threadbare mittens.

Something collided hard with his head from behind. He almost stumbled over from the force. Momentarily dazed, he realised what it was as coldness trickled down his back, quickly soaking through both layers of clothing.

He heard gleeful laughter in the distance, where two boys milled about in the snow. One of them was blond and heavyset; the other thin and rat-faced. Both were clearly more adequately dressed for the weather than he.

Harry planted his feet firmly in the snow and considered his options. His guardians had been in quite a foul mood that morning. The cause was beyond him, since to the best of his knowledge, he had done nothing to provoke that. In any case, they always seemed intent on pinning the blame on him one way or another, so it would be sensible to avoid antagonizing their son – and by proxy, them – any further.

Harry considered himself leagues more intelligent than his cousin. He was, however, decidedly not what one might call _sensible_.

He scooped, crushed, stood up, reeled back, took aim, and let go.

Bet they never saw _that_ coming.

"Potter, what the _hell_ –" Dudley swore viciously as Piers tugged him back on his feet with obvious difficulty. "You are going to regret this!"

"_Regret_, Dudley? As in, feeling bad? Are sure you actually know its meaning? Cos I am feeling rather _wonderful_ right now."

The effect was instantaneous. Dudley puffed up as if he was a giant, livid balloon – though hoping he might burst like one was probably wishful thinking. He opened and closed his mouth for a few times, gaping. Unable to come up with anything witty, though, he went for the simplest response – charging towards his target at full speed.

Though, full speed amounted to very little more than dawdling through the snow clumsily and trying not to tumble over from the constant suction on his boots.

Trying and failing.

Harry had already plotted out an escape route in mind, but as it turned out, he didn't need one. Dudley had barely covered half the distance before he tripped on seemingly nothing at all – and he might still have managed to regain his footing, if only Piers had not slammed right into him at the very moment.

Dudley landed flat on his face, Piers piling right on top of him. Their limbs tangled in an ungraceful heap as they started scrambling to get up, grabbing blindly for a hold and only succeeding in getting in each other's way.

"POTTER! You – stay there – don't you _dare _move or I'll – OOF – GETOFFME! Just you _wait_ –"

For a moment, Harry simply stared.

Slowly but surely, the sheer ridiculousness of situation dawned on him. He was suddenly overcome by a strange elation. It was not something he could remember experiencing very often, nor was he entirely sure how to describe it. It was unlike the usual sense of vindication when Dudley received his comeuppance from some strange happening, scorching beneath a sweet exterior; nor was it a guilty satisfaction that came from cheating a little pleasure out of the universe, heavy and shrouded from the rest of the world.

Pure, unadulterated _joy_ – he was happy simply because this was funny, and maybe it really shouldn't be _this_ funny, but it just _was_, anyway –

So he laughed.

For a very brief moment, he thought he heard someone else laughing along with him.

But he must have imagined that part. No one ever laughed with him, instead of _at_ him.

* * *

><p>"NOT <em>FAIR<em>!" James Sirius Potter stuck his head out for just long enough to shriek, before quickly ducking behind the cover of their ford again. It was no good, though – behind the ford or not, the flurry of snowballs lingered behind him like a second shadow, pelting relentlessly.

Beside him, Albus was trying to quell his laughter by pointedly not looking in his brother's direction. If anything, avoiding the visual only served in enhancing all the sound effects, which made him laugh all the harder.

Lily giggled from where she was crouching, behind the safety of the ford on the opposite end of the field. "Teach me that one, Dad!" She squealed.

Harry cast a questioning look at his wife. "Is she even supposed to be on our side?"

"Well, no," said Ginny. "And you are not supposed to be using charms, either."

"You know the rule for these – make a few rules, but not too many, and don't ever mean_ any_ of them. Before you know it, everyone has pretty much forgotten such things ever existed." Harry said. "Besides, when have I ever been a sticker for _rules_?"

Ginny smiled playfully. "You are forgetting something."

"Hmm?"

Six-year-old Lily Potter took on an expression of sheer delight as her mother leaned over to whisper conspiratorially in her ear.

"Watch very carefully now, dear. Your uncles forgot to tell him – they taught that little charm to me too."

* * *

><p>Ginny had told him in that no-nonsense tone she inherited from her mother. "Stop panicking."<p>

"I'm not panicking. There's only three months left –"

"You'll be _wonderful_."

It didn't quell the worry in the pit of Harry's stomach, not completely. Some part of him would always be terrified. Experience was too often ingrained in one's instincts. Some day, he was going to lose that tight rein he held over his temper – it was only a matter of time. And from there, he would resort to the way he associated with handling the situation – the way he was accustomed to.

One time would be too many.

She actually rolled her eyes at him now, and her tone was gentle, with a hint of exasperation. "Oh, for Merlin's sake. Just as usual, you get so caught up tormenting yourself…"

"I am not tormenting myself. It's a reasonable concern –"

"…that you forget you aren't alone in this." She spoke over him.

Harry went quiet.

"I think you'll be a wonderful father, because you know exactly what it is like to be on the receiving end of being treated the wrong way – and you'll never, ever do that to any of your children."

He hesitated, then whispered, "What if I lose control of myself?"

"Then you'll trust me to keep watch on _our_ children, wouldn't you?" She smiled. "And on you too, of course."

She leaned forward to kiss him.

* * *

><p>Seven years old was an age for constant, sometime painfully awkward questions. But she would have expected the question to come from Lily or Albus. James was usually more concerned about the adventure of the tales than the romance of the characters.<p>

"Mum, how did you and Dad fall in love?"

Ginny glanced towards Harry. Being married for almost a decade did make it rather too late for the blushing and flustering, though she knew that a tiny part of her had never really gone past that stage, and she very much loved it just the way it was.

"It was that story of the fountain last night, wasn't it? Well, ours was quite different." She winked. "It's your turn tonight, Harry."

Harry flipped through the book, thumbing its wrinkled cover. It was one of the few in the house that didn't have pictures which could move. Then he closed it, and pondered for a moment before he began, "This is a tale by Brothers Grimm. Once upon a time…"

"Not a fairytale," James protested.

"A love story," said Lily.

"_Your_ love story," said Albus.

"Alright, I see," said Harry, fondly amused. "Do be patient."

…_The darkest wizard unleashed a curse upon her, and she would fall into a sleep like death, till the end of time…_

* * *

><p>James crossed his arms together, as if doing so would make him less susceptible to the magic possessed by all the little sisters in the world.<p>

Her soft lips pulled into a pout, emerald eyes impossibly wide and watery. When she spoke, there was a slight tremble at the edge of her voice, one that promised of hell to come if her demands were not met.

"Stop doing that," he grouched. Those tears were not real, he told himself. They were _not_.

He didn't say _no_, though.

She flashed a crooked, toothy smile at him, a front tooth conspicuously missing. That smile he knew to be genuine, and it was precisely why he could never refuse.

"Let's do it tonight!" She announced, clapping her chubby hands together.

Dad dropped by once to ask what they were doing with the jars and the glue and _please tell me you didn't pluck those feathers off the owl, they just fell_?

James scowled at him until he went away. Dad had looked amused – not in the "this-is-silly" sense, but more in the "you-come-up-with-the-strangest-ideas" sense. He always looked amused.

But they didn't want help for this. This was something they could do it on their own.

The next morning, the tooth was gone and there was no fairy in their trap. James had almost been afraid of facing Lily, even though he would never admit to being scared of anything. He knew where they went wrong. They were taking shifts, and the plan should have worked, if only he hadn't gotten tired all of a sudden…

Lily, however, seemed much more excited than upset. "The tooth is gone, that means she's real," she said. "This was fun!"

"I don't think they like getting caught," said Albus. "Now we get our answer and she gets Lily's tooth. It's all good."

James could think of quite a few arguments. Maybe their parents took it. The request to sleep in the same room had been a little sudden ("_Are you absolutely sure you won't kill each other? Lily, do keep an eye on them."_), after all, and Dad had known all about the Tooth Fairy. It could even be one of the three of them, if he got really _really_ suspicious.

But all of these paled in comparison to the fact that it was the morning after Lily's birthday.

He took a deep breath. "I suppose," he said simply.

Albus and Lily exchanged a quick glance. He knew at once that they had seen the skepticism underneath anyway – and were plotting something against _him_ now.

* * *

><p>James had been unusually quiet for the better part of the week, aside from the occasional odd look in Harry's direction when he believed no one was watching. Harry had left him to it for the first three days. On the fourth, he left Albus and Lily to Ginny and proceeded to ask if James had wanted to tell him something.<p>

"Dad, I want to ask you something. Can you believe something's real, even if you can't see it?"

Harry took a moment to digest the question. "You don't have to see something for it to be real," he answered. "There are some magical creatures that – well, not everyone can see them, but that doesn't make them any less real."

"But, if you can't see something, can you believe that it's real?"

* * *

><p>He had gone out to get some air, away from what seemed to be constant quarreling these days – only to find that he wasn't as alone as he wanted to be.<p>

"Hullo, Harry." Luna Lovegood said airily, giving him a little wave.

"Erm," he said. "Hi."

He could see bits of leaf and snow stuck in her tangled blonde hair. Rather than tying it the usual way like everyone else, she had looped her scarf around her neck haphazardly. It looked more like a twisty doughnut than an article of clothing.

"Join us?" She waved her hands in the vague direction around her, but he couldn't see anyone else.

He nodded slowly.

She could be right, even though Hermione would probably disagree – he thought of the black winged creatures in front of their carriages. Or perhaps she wasn't. Why did it matter? Whatever they are, to her, they must be as real as he was – possibly even more real than he.

"Okay," he said.

"Thanks," she said, very earnestly. "You see, Harry. Just as always."

Oh no.

"Wait, listen," he said in a rush. "What you were…mentioning? You should probably – I should probably have told you. I actually can't see them. Not always. I mean. At all. Um, sorry."

"I know you can't," she said, giving him an odd look.

"...Huh?"

"That's okay," she said serenely. "I can't see them either."

"You…can't. Okay." He said uncertainly, trying not to display the full extent of his bewilderment. "Doesn't it get…I don't know, difficult?"

"No, not really," she said. He almost laughed – what did he expect? Of course she'd say that.

"You see," she muttered again.

"I don't see anything," he said, completely befuddled now. He wondered if he should feel frustrated. There was no point to that, though. Maybe he should just drop the topic?

She shook her head and hummed something softly under her breath.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"You don't believe, Harry, but you understand. Thank you."

* * *

><p>Still shaking slightly from mirth, Harry pressed his hands to his aching sides, trying to pull his features into something akin to a stern expression.<p>

"Alright, your mum isn't here to back you up now, so you'd better fess up. You've had help all along, haven't you? I was a little suspicious, but I know I kept that cloak properly. Who is that sneaky friend of yours?"

"Um. That." James turned to his siblings. "This had better work."

Harry lifted an eyebrow.

"We've told you about him," said Albus.

"He's – over there," Lily pointed. Her small face was taut with anticipation.

Harry looked over in the direction she was pointing at. The snow glowed dazzlingly white.

There was no one in sight.

"I can't see him, can I?"

He had only meant for his tone to sound somewhat resigned. He wondered why it sounded almost sad, instead.

* * *

><p>"I had a dream about a motorcycle." He remembered saying. "It was flying."<p>

"MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

In hindsight, he had to wonder what on earth prompted him to blurt that out loud – and to Uncle Vernon of all people, too. That was just taking idiocy to a whole new level.

He could remember what he had said next. "I know they don't. It was only a dream." Then he wished he had never said anything at all.

He didn't remember any of these when he saw a flying motorcycle again – it had been a rather stressful year, to put things mildly. It was another couple of years later that the memory came up randomly, for no discernable reason.

As it turned out, motorcycles do fly. He only wished he could have known that back then.

"They can fly," he said aloud, to no one in particular. He wondered if some part of him was expecting those words to somehow travel back in time, that his younger self might hear them.

* * *

><p>Something was sailing towards his head from behind. Harry dodged purely on reflex before he realised what had happened.<p>

"Aw, almost got you."

He turned around. There was a white-haired teenager in a blue hoodie standing there, leaning casually against what seems like a long wooden staff. He was a few years older than the other kids, though it was not immediately obvious, perhaps because he seemed perfectly at ease around them – lacking the awkwardness inherent in all adolescents stuck between the stages of childhood and adulthood.

"Hello, Jack," said Harry. "Nice to meet you."

Jack blinked at him, once, twice. His face went slack with shock. "You can see me?" he stuttered.

Harry could sense the aura emanated by spirit with ease. There was definitely an element of otherworldliness. Human, but distinctively different from the magic of wizards. Most importantly – and perhaps that's the only important part – there's no hint of maliciousness at all.

"They mention you often," Harry gestured to his children. "Told me that you are the spirit of winter…I can believe it now."

The kids look like they were about to keel over from excitement.

"No way you can sneak up on an auror!" James yelled. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"I used to be able to," said Jack. He looked at Harry as if seeing him for the first time. Uncertainty flickered over his expression. He seemed unsure of how to proceed, now having realised that Harry was no longer the child he met before.

"I don't know," said Harry. "When did that happen?"

"The morning of Christmas, year 1990. You were looking a little…down. I thought you could use some fun. Started a snowball fight by hurling the first one at you – that always works."

Harry stared at him. "That was _you_?"

"Yep. I did a fair bit of tripping too. Did you have fun with your friends?"

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, laughing. "Wow – and I thought – so it was _you_."

To think, he was actually the one that wronged Dudley for once – they had really been laughing about something else and he'd just flung a snowball at them for no reason. He felt no guilt over the truth, though – just a little hilarity.

Jack didn't know that Dudley and Piers were very far from what he would describe as "friends", but Harry let the misunderstanding slide. It's ancient history, after all. They're on relatively fine terms now.

"How do you remember something from that long ago?" Lily asked in amazement.

Jack chuckled, his pale cheeks beginning to flush slightly from pride. He looked more at ease now. "I never forget any children. None of us do."

"There are others?" asked Harry.

"They're _guardians_." Lily piped up. "The Easter Bunny, the Sandman, the Tooth Fairy…Oh, can we see Santa Claus? Please?"

"I don't think so," said Jack. "North is rather busy with work now. Though –" he adds, seeing that her face is beginning to fall, " – I can ask him to drop by after Christmas eve. He usually gives the presents in secret – more surprise for the kids that way. But I make sure he gets out of that workshop of his once in a while to actually see the children. After all, making children happy _is_ our work."

He grinned, showing two rows of pearly white teeth.

"His name is North? Can I see him too?" Harry asked. His curiosity had flared to life at the mention of _secret_, with an intensity that surprised him. "I need to ask him about something."

"Yes, I suppose so, since you can see me. But if you are going to ask about the Naughty List, there's no need for that."

"Alright, I did want to know." Harry admitted. "Why not?"

"You don't hold record," Jack sing-songed, smugness underlining his words. "_I do_."

Harry could feel his eyes bugging out. "_You_?" He enunciated indignantly. "How? I broke _hundreds_ of school rules at Hogwarts every year!"

It had sudden become very quiet.

"Blimey." James whistled. "Every year? _Hundreds_?"

"Um." Harry coughed. "I don't suppose you can pretend you haven't heard that."

"_No way_."

Jack laughed. It was an enthralling sound, brimming with mirth and delight. Harry knew then, without a doubt, that it was that laugh he had heard before.

"You don't get presents for Christmas from Santa if you are on the Naughty List," Lily said seriously. "Especially not if you hold record."

James did an imitation of being absolutely crestfallen. "Would still be worth it," he announced, sighing dramatically.

"Actually, that isn't true," Jack said in a hushed tone. "It's supposed to be a secret, but _wellllll_ – the Nice and Naughty Lists are really just incentives, not the criteria. North says that it rather defeats the point of gifts if you get it _for_ being nice, or if you are being nice _for_ getting it. We all have times when we are nice or naughty. It would be quite horrid if a few mischiefs deprive you of a merry Christmas, wouldn't it?" He winks. "Though, as for the really nasty ones – that's another story."

Harry nodded stiffly. He could feel his stomach dropping.

"I've found gifts I haven't bought every year, addressed to them," he began. "I thought it was magic, or some kind of surprise from a friend…"

"People usually think that," Jack agreed. "Sometimes it's actually easier for the magical to miss things."

"…I don't suppose you'd know why I didn't find any, do you?"

"You were in Hogwarts," Jack explained. "We don't enter the magical schools – there are far too many protective spells and breaking through them would be tedious and disruptive, especially if some of us are to do so every night. It's a pity that the magical children always stop believing earlier, but I think they'll be fine – they can do much stranger things themselves."

"So we won't see you anymore when we are eleven," Albus concluded. His expression was withdrawn and saddened.

"It's okay," Jack said gently. "I am sure you will find quite enough fun there on your own."

Harry's smile had become a little strained. "Do – the non-believers get presents too? Before Hogwarts?"

"Of course they do," Jack looked slightly confused for a moment. "You don't mean – I know you were nice. Maybe there were lots of gifts, your family probably miscounted."

"A mountain of them, really. They counted the gifts every year, it's a sort of…tradition," Harry said, smiling ruefully. "I'd say I was quite the troublemaker, actually."

Jack began apologetically, "I'll – check this out for you. Maybe North has a record – or something…"

"No, it's quite alright," said Harry. "I don't mind. I was just wondering if that was because of the lists. If it's just some sort of accident, I –"

Realisation dawned.

"_Oh_." Harry goes very still. "I think I know what happened."

"What?" Jack asks eagerly.

"Nothing to worry about," Harry was beaming now. "They just…met with some sort of accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"It's not important," said Harry. "I just needed to know that they had indeed been sent to me, and that they didn't just vanish or something. It's no mistake of the guardians."

He truly hadn't been too bothered by their dour moods back then – the Dursleys always found something to blame him for, after all. But even twenty-four years late, it's nice to know that there was a reason after all. He couldn't help cringing a little at the thought of what happened to those gifts, though.

Jack looked unwilling to drop the topic. "I'll do something to make it up for you," he said.

"You don't have to, but thanks," said Harry. "Er, I've been wondering – is it more difficult, for adults to see you?"

"As long as you can believe, you can see," said Jack. "Why should it be any different if you are an adult?"

A zephyr rippled gently through the air. Small, crystalline snowflakes danced to its intricate tune as they fell to the ground afresh.

"You are my first adult believer, though," Jack said, and his smile was radiant.

Harry looked to his children, and saw that they were staring at him with what could only be described as looks of pure adoration.

"I knew it," Lily said breathlessly. "I knew you can do it."

Harry gathered her into his arms and gives her a full-circle spin in mid-air. She squealed with laughter.

"Told you!" He could hear James hollering. "Coolest. Dad. _Ever_."

* * *

><p>They are seated next to the Christmas tree, sorting through the presents – a mountainous heap, indeed. Decorative lights flicker round the edges of the ceiling. Their hues are soft and warm, unlike the harsh fluorescent commonly found in muggle households. Flames crackle merrily on the hearth, and the room is cozily warm.<p>

"…Neville, Luna, Bill and Fleur. And that would be…sixteen in total."

Ginny looks at him bemusedly. "You are counting them?"

Harry shrugs. "Thought I'd try that this year. It can be…satisfying."

And it really is.

"There's another one here for you." Ginny says as she reaches the bottom of the stack.

The gift is wrapped in blue and silver wrapper, with a white ribbon atop it. The card attached reads "To Harry, Merry Christmas". There is only the imprint of a snowflake where the sender's name should be.

"…Seventeen."

"Secret admirer?" She teases.

"I think it's more of the other way round," says Harry. There's a warmth growing steadily inside him. "This is – quite unexpected. But really nice of him."

"You know who it's from?"

Harry nods. "Ginny – can I ask you something? What do you think of the phrase 'believing is seeing'?"

"That's interesting – usually you need to see something to believe about it. Maybe it can be the other way round – believing in something without seeing it, or before you can see it. That sounds…fun."

"Did you know? James said I'm the coolest Dad ever."

"Well, you are." She reaches out instinctively to smooth over the furrow that has begun forming between his brows.

"Why do you think that?"

"You have a dangerous and demanding career out there. You are always busy, but every time you miss something important, you try to make it up to them. You come home exhausted and read them stories about sleeping princesses and evil dark wizards. And every time they ask you, '_Is it real_'? You never tell them '_Yes, it is_' or _'Duh, of course not_'. You always ask '_What do you think_' or '_Why don't you try to find out_'?"

"That sounds good," says Harry, smiling. "That sounds quite good."

They share a moment of comfortable silence.

"You've got that look again, the one that says you are thinking about something from the past." Ginny says. "A sickle for your thoughts?"

"Nothing," says Harry. "Just – motorcycles."

"Motorcycles?"

"Flying motorcycles."

A deep rumble echoes through the house.

They are on their feet in an instant, wands out and at ready, glancing around warily.

"Oh, if I catch them they trying to burn down the house again…" Ginny's voice trails off ominously.

Another rumble. It's coming from above them.

Harry's head whips to the blazing fireplace all of a sudden. His eyes widen.

"Don't tell me that Santa really does come down through the chimney…"

* * *

><p><em>231214251214261214<em>

**J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter series and their characters. Dreamworks own Rise of the Guardians and its characters. They are wonderful people for gifting us with such amazing characters and beautiful stories.**

**A/N: **I've never seen real snow in my life. Wish I can someday, though. Merry Christmas and stay happy everyone :)

Timeline

_25 December 1990_ – Harry heard Jack Frost for the first time.

_23 June 1991_ – Harry dreamed of a flying motorcycle.

_Winter 1996_ – Luna thanked Harry because he didn't ostracise her or jump to contradict her for believing things he didn't.

_2005_ – Ginny became pregnant with James Sirius Potter.

_Winter 2012_ – Ginny read the children "The Fountain of Fair Fortune" from "Tales of Beedle the Bard". Harry told them a different version of the fairytale "Sleeping Beauty" by Brothers Grimm.

_Sumer 2013_ – James, Albus and Lily made a fairy trap on the night of Lily's fifth birthday.

_Winter 2013_ – James became a believer.

_Winter 2014_ – Harry met Jack Frost for the first time.

_25 December 2014_ – Harry receives a Christmas gift from Jack and North drops by for a visit.


End file.
